


The Gift's Me, Obviously

by captaintwerkpants



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, One Shot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:45:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaintwerkpants/pseuds/captaintwerkpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones sounds a deep, low growl.</p><p>Jim isn't taking the reigns tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift's Me, Obviously

His hair is yanked back, exposing a long line of neck for a probing tongue which spikes shivers down Jim’s back. He moves his hands through dark, brown hair, clutching desperately and angling himself to take control of the situation.

Bones sounds a deep, low growl.

Jim isn’t taking the reigns tonight.

They continue to wrestle until both of them are tumbling onto the ground. Jim can still taste the bourbon liquid off of Bones’ tongue, lips, breath—he claws wanting to just fuck Bones right into the carpet. When they finally pull away to gulp in air, the fiery, beastly look in Leonard’s eyes speak the tremendous fatality that Jim would be the one being fucked ravenously into the ground.

It both scares and excites him. He’s never taken anything before, and his back arches up from the ground, hips in the air as Bones’ hot mouth traces down the length of his bare chest with scraps of material of his uniform at the side. Jim bucks, groans, whimpers as the ‘steadiest hands in the fleet’ work off his belt and pants and fuck the briefs as well in one fell swoop.

Blue eyes dart down to catch greens watching him, Jim body saturating in perspiration and heat, oozing the lust-filled scent into the air. He tangles his hair into those dark strands once again and it’s all Bones needs for encouragement before moving his bourbon-tasting mouth over Jim.

He instantly bucks, eyes shooting wide and mouth in an ‘o’ of surprise, because godfuck Bones’ mouth feels fuuuucking good. So good. So damn fucking good. Jim cups both of his hands behind Leonard’s neck who’s head bobs up and down consistently, tongue violating Jim’s balls in every possible way each time he drops down to the base.

Jim’s clutching hair, digging his nails into the ground, arching, dropping, moaning and rolling religious deities off his tongue in a sultry manner. Asking for more, and Bones delivers until Jim is shaking into a bliss of release and white vision.

He doesn’t have time enough to recuperate, and instead finds Bones’ hastily throwing his legs over his shoulders and sucking ridiculously sensual on two fingers before probing at Jim’s entrance, which clenches in fervent fear. Once again, blue eyes latch with greens with an expression of uncertainty. Leonard pauses, the animal within him growing thin with patience, because goddamn does he need Jim now. Screw his pride. But, he knows. Leonard knows it’s all the kid’s got. And him.

“I got you,” he murmurs into Jim’s ankle, lips brushing against the flesh. “I got you-“

Jim flinches as a digit slides in him, eyes flying open with surprise for the second time that night. It hurts and Jim wants it to stop. Bones leans down, pressing soothing kisses along Jim’s jawline. “I’ve got you darlin’. Sh.” Leonard pushes in his second finger, scissoring Jim open with slow, tentative movements; in and out, in.. and out. Jim latches onto Bones’ still clothed shoulders, fingers fisting in the uniform as his head knocks back, lips parting with a snarling groan which indicates exactly where Bones needs to hit with his fingers. He does it again. Jim bucks, gripping Bones’ hair dangerously to the point of ripping his hair from the roots.

“FUCK! Booooones—“ It’s all the encouragement Leonard needs and he pumps his hand faster, watching the beauty beneath him writhe and squirm and fuck it he’s had enough time to prepare. He extracts his fingers which leaves Jim in a withering mess, and for that alone, has Jim shielding his face with embarrassment. Bones is working through his insecurities just by doing this. He can’t handle it. It’s too much.

“Ready?”

Jim shakes his head as he feels Bones fingers gripping his thighs.

The next moment, and he’s arching off the carpet with more than a handful of curses, nails digging into the upholstery, into Bones’ shirt-covered arms, into the man’s skull. It’s too much. Too fucking much.

“Bones—please,” Jim pleads, dragging Leonard down to his level with insistent kisses and bites. “Please-“ his voice croaks.

Bones complies with a thrust, which sends Jim into a blind vision of white, white, white everywhere. Spots dot into his line of sight, blinking away the initial torture of Bones’ moving too slowly for his taste. “Jim-,” comes the Southern drawl which sends the Captain of a flagship over the edge. “Jim—“ he repeats over and over while picking up the pace.

Jim clings to him, legs dropping off of Bones’ shoulder to wrap themselves around his waist. He’s dropping his defenses. He’s allowing himself to open up, allowing Bones to see this petulant side of himself.

They move in unison, an unheard rhythm rocking them both together in the silence of the Captain’s quarters, on the ground, Jim sure to have rug burns as the heat envelopes against his back. Their moans are conjoined, fashioned together like some sort of symphony of the stars speaking wonders of trust and abandonment.

“I love you,” Bones murmurs gruffly against Jim’s cheek, slick with sweat. He bucks, earning a keening moan and a light chuckle.

“Love—love you, too, asshole,” Jim mumbles back, bucking up into Bones in an effort to shut him up and just hurry up and fuck him.

And Bones does, promptly sending Jim into oblivion and screaming festivity of curses and bad-mouthing gods.

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

They lay curled up together, drinking in the sight of one another in the lighting of ten-percent within the quarters. Jim’s smile is serene and hopeful.

“Merry Christmas, you drunkass.”

Bones laughs, the arm around Jim’s waist pulling in the kid closer. “Merry Christmas, kid. Next time, think about how much you’re allowing me to drink before offering yourself as a present to me. I don’t like take backs.”

Jim laughs, then winces. He’s going to have one hell of a time explaining why he can’t walk properly the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> ** I had this posted up originally on my tumblr account. It's not much of a gem, but it's my first attempt of writing up smut. I'm horrible at it, and since I haven't a beta yet, there may be mistakes. I accept criticism heartily. **


End file.
